Well, if she's going to be here for a while, she may as well get a good meal out of it. The summer grasses are lost the lush, bright green sweetness of their springtime youth but plenty of freshness still remains. Not only that, but there is clover here. Delicious, sugary clover -- Enobaria eats it anyway, even if she knows she will regret it later when the slobbers come. It's hardly ladylike to be drooling all over herself like a loony, but sometimes the reward is worth the cost. The painted mare will just ensure she's by herself later on.
Unless father shows up. Then she will just drool on him and watch him have a meltdown over her impropriety. But that's the cost of being the youngest daughter of a former King; everything is proper this and rules that and Enobaria has never really thrived under those circumstances.
She sighs softly, lifting her head. Icy blues glance around again, scenting the air. Where is her father, anyway? The storm could not have separated them by that much, could it? Puffing up her feathers, the antlered hybrid gives herself a good rouse, shaking dust and dandruff off of her skin and in doing so, resettling her feathers, and going back to grazing.
A stick snaps, and Enobaria jerks her head up, muscles tensing. She has no idea what sort of predators may be lurking around this unfamiliar country, but back home, bears and wolves were more than happy to make a meal out of an unsuspecting equine, even if they were a magic wielder. If she recalled correctly, father said some of the bears and wolves were magically inclined too. What if there are sorcerer bears here too? Or warlock wolves?
Fortunately, it isn't a bear, but the sudden touch to her fetlock spooks the young mare all the same. Enobaria snorts and sidesteps, barely resisting the urge to flee. But it's another horse, a rather pretty caramel colored thing, who had been partially hidden by dense brush. Eno snorts and does her best to settle her feathers back down so she looks less like a wind harried pigeon.
"Oh, it's allright," she replies kindly, letting out a lungful of air. Pink lips form a smile at the compliment. "Thank you, that's very kind. ... Wait... did you say you fly as a bird? How curious! Do you turn into a bird? Oh, how wonderful that must be."
ENOBARIA
where the skies end
